Part 45 (2/2)
”Oh, he's no const.i.tution; never had, I suppose. But he seemed much as usual. He's staying with Raeburn, you know, and I've been staying with the father of the young lady whom Raeburn 's going to marry.”
”Ah! I've heard of that,” said Bennett, with a look of interest. ”Well, Mr. Raeburn isn't on our side, but for judgment and fair dealing there are very few men of his cla.s.s and circ.u.mstances I would trust as I would him. The lady should be happy.”
”Of course,” said Wharton, drily. ”However, neither she nor Raeburn are very happy just at this moment. A horrible affair happened down there last night. One of Lord Maxwell's gamekeepers and a 'helper,' a lad of seventeen, were killed last night in a fight with poachers. I only just heard the outlines of it before I came away, but I got a telegram just before going into congress, asking me to defend the man charged with the murder.”
A quick expression of repulsion and disgust crossed Bennett's face.
”There have been a whole crop of such cases lately,” he said. ”How shall we ever escape from the _curse_ of this game system?”
”We shan't escape it,” said Wharton, quietly, knocking the end off his cigarette, ”not in your lifetime or mine. When we get more Radicals on the bench we shall lighten the sentences; but that will only exasperate the sporting cla.s.s into finding new ways of protecting themselves. Oh!
the man will be hung--that's quite clear to me. But it will be a good case--from the public point of view--will work up well--”
He ran his hand through his curls, considering.
”Will work up admirably,” he added in a lower tone of voice, as though to himself, his eyes keen and brilliant as ever, in spite of the marks of sleeplessness and fatigue visible in the rest of the face, though only visible there since he had allowed himself the repose of his cigarette and arm-chair.
”Are yo' comin' to dine at the 'Peterloo' to-night, Mr. Wharton?” said Wilkins, as Wharton handed him a cup of coffee; ”but of coorse you are--part of yower duties, I suppose?”
While Molloy and Casey were deep in animated discussion of the great meeting of the afternoon he had been sitting silent against the edge of the table--a short-bearded sombre figure, ready at any moment to make a grievance, to suspect a slight.
”I'm afraid I can't,” said Wharton, bending forward and speaking in a tone of concern; ”that was just what I was going to ask you all--if you would make my excuses to-night? I have been explaining to Bennett. I have an important piece of business in the country--a labourer has been getting into trouble for shooting a keeper; they have asked me to defend him. The a.s.sizes come on in little more than a fortnight, worse luck! so that the time is short--”
And he went on to explain that, by taking an evening train back to Widrington, he could get the following (Sat.u.r.day) morning with the solicitor in charge of the case, and be back in Birmingham, thanks to the convenience of a new line lately opened, in time for the second meeting of the congress, which was fixed for the early afternoon.
He spoke with great cordiality and persuasiveness. Among the men who surrounded him, his youth, good looks, and easy breeding shone out conspicuous. In the opinion of Wilkins, indeed, who followed his every word and gesture, he was far too well dressed and too well educated. A day would soon come when the labour movement would be able to show these young aristocrats the door. Not yet, however.
”Well, I thowt you wouldn't dine with us,” he said, turning away with a blunt laugh.
Bennett's mild eye showed annoyance. ”Mr. Wharton has explained himself very fully, I think,” he said, turning to the others. ”We shall miss him at dinner--but this matter seems to be one of life and death. And we mustn't forget anyway that Mr. Wharton is fulfilling this engagement at great inconvenience to himself. We none of us knew when we elected him last year that he would have to be fighting his election at the same time. Next Sat.u.r.day, isn't it?”
Bennett rose as he spoke and carefully b.u.t.toned his coat. It was curious to contrast his position among his fellows--one of marked ascendency and authority--with his small insignificant physique. He had a gentle deprecating eye, and the heart of a poet. He played the flute and possessed the gift of repeating verse--especially Ebenezer Eliot's Corn Law Rhymes--so as to stir a great audience to enthusiasm or tears. The Wesleyan community of his native Ches.h.i.+re village owned no more successful cla.s.s-leader, and no humbler Christian. At the same time he could hold a large business meeting sternly in check, was the secretary of one of the largest and oldest Unions in the country, had been in Parliament for years, and was generally looked upon even by the men who hated his ”moderate” policy, as a power not to be ignored.
”Next Sat.u.r.day. Yes!” said Wharton, nodding in answer to his inquiry.
”Well, are you going to do it?” said Casey, looking round at him.
”Oh, yes!” said Wharton, cheerfully; ”oh, yes! we shall do it. We shall settle old Dodgson, I think.”
”Are the Raeburns as strong as they were?” asked Molloy, who knew Brooks.h.i.+re.
”What landlord is? Since '84 the ground is mined for them all--good and bad--and they know it.”
”The mine takes a long time blowing up--too long for my patience,” said Wilkins, gruffly. ”How the country can go on year after year paying its tribute to these plunderers pa.s.ses my comprehension. But you may attack them as you please. You will never get any forrarder so long as Parliament and the Cabinet is made up of them and their hangers on.”
Wharton looked at him brightly, but silently, making a little a.s.senting inclination of the head. He was not surprised that anything should pa.s.s Wilkins's comprehension, and he was determined to give him no opening for holding forth.
”Well, we'll let you alone,” said Bennett. ”You'll have very little time to get off in. We'll make your excuses, Mr. Wharton. You may be sure everybody is so pleased with your speech we shall find them all in a good temper. It was grand!--let me congratulate you again. Good-night--I hope you'll get your poacher off!”
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